


in alphabetical order

by liionne



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>26 drabbles of the many relationships aboard the <i>Enterprise.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [The Lover's Dictionary: McKirk Edition](http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/mckirk-edition) on tumblr, which actually owns my soul.

**Abstruse**  
                                                                                                  _adj_. Difficult to understand; obscure.

"You- _what_?"

"I love you, Jim."

Bones stood in the middle of his quarters, his arms by his sides and his feet just a little way apart. He looked totally open, and sounded completely honest. But Jim-

Well, Jim still couldn't believe him.

"I don't-" Jim shook his head. He didn't understand.

They'd been friends since that very first day on the shuttle; or rather, Jim had followed Bones around like a little lost puppy and Bones had not objected, and they had become friends after little while. And of course, Jim had seen him like _that_ after a while. It was inevitable. They acted like a married couple; they fought, and they nagged each other, and then they made it up with tiny gifts and sometimes cuddles. And by sometimes, he meant a _lot_ of times.

But he never thought Bones had liked him back.

And now he _loved_ him?

"What's so damn hard to understand, Jim?" Bones said, exasperated. "I love you. Always have."

Jim blinked "But when did you-"

"When did I decide to tell you?" Bones asked. He sighed. "Thought about it when you got back from Delta Vega. I was two steps away from stealin' a shuttle to bring you back when you beamed aboard."

Jim still wasn't getting it. "What stopped you?"

"The fact that I can't fly a shuttle to save my life." Bones answered. "No point in two of us being stuck on that god forsaken rock."

Jim tilted his head a little as he looked at him. "Why didn't you tell me then? When I got back?"

"You had a lot to do." Bones answered. He still wasn't smiling. "Didn't want to distract ya."

"You wouldn't have distracted me." Jim argued.

Bones raised an eyebrow, but he didn't respond. Quiet fell between them, and Jim bit down on his lip to try to stave off the grin that was forming on his lips and threatening to split his face in half.

He took three slow steps forward, until he was stood right in front of Bones. The tips of their noses were almost touching.

"I love you too, Bones." He said. Blue eyes met hazel, and Jim leaned forward to press his lips gently to Bones. It was a touch so light it almost didn't exist, but with the way Bones gently exhaled, Jim knew it was enough. He wound his arms around Bones' waist, pulling him close. "Stay here tonight?" He suggested.

Bones nodded, his arms wrapping around Bones' neck. "Of course, Jim."


	2. B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock makes amends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful dammit-jim-im-a-khaleesi
> 
> Still taking ship/word requests for this series!

**_Bowdlerize_ **

_v. To remove or modify the parts considered offensive_

"I am sorry, Nyota."

Spock could discern from the downward tilt of Nyota Uhura’s lips, and the way her eyes were almost  _glowing_  that she was - to put it in a simple human vernacular - angry. It was entirely plausible that even a few years ago, he wouldn’t have been able to determine  _why_  he was receiving the cold shoulder, but he’d since learned to closely analyse his actions since he last saw Nyota, and identify things which may have caused her any distress.

At this precise moment, he could easily assess that it was due to missing what she referred to as “Date Night”, to discuss a treaty with a barely-formed civilisation on a planet not too far away. At the time, it had seemed a logical decision to Spock; he had work to do, and it took precedence over his social life.

Now he was discovering yet again, that no actually, it did not.

He visibly softened, the normally rigid set of his shoulders relaxing as he reached out for her. It was difficult for him, to show emotion when he was so used to hiding it, so compelled to follow the order of Surak. He always managed, though. He always managed for her.

"I did not mean to upset you. That was not my intention."

He folded her into his arms, and she put up little resistance. Tucking herself against his chest, she murmured into his chest, “You just don’t think, Spock. Not in the way that it counts.”

"I am aware," He answered. "I shall endeavour to consider your response next time."

A small smile graced her lips, but she didn’t look up. Spock didn’t mind; he was rather quite happy like this.  _Happy_. While this was a nonsensical notion before Nyota, he was becoming rather accustomed to it.

"And I shall rectify my error by rescheduling our "Date Night"," He kissed the top of her head. "And making it worth your while,” he purred, nuzzling her neck.

She liked  _that_  tone to his voice. She pulled back, standing on tip-toe to press a kiss to his lips, grasping his hand tightly in hers, smirking at the gasp it invoked.

"Well then, I think I can forgive you." She murmured.

Spock had once asked the Captain why he and McCoy remained together if they were always fighting. Jim had told him that making up was the best part.

Spock had not understood this until now.

**_Rapprochement_ **

_n. Restoration of harmony_


	3. C

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov is a good shoulder to cry on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my wonderful beta dammit-jim-im-a-khaleesi!
> 
> Any specific words you want defined or specific ships (romantic or not) just let me know!

**Comfort  
** _v_. make (someone) feel less unhappy or anxious.

Pavel Chekov was not as delicate as everyone liked to assume. Just because he was only eighteen (going on nineteen, but still) the crew of the Enterprise, or those who didn’t know better, liked to think that he was naive, and fragile.

He, personally, liked to think he was anything but fragile. Just because he was young didnn’t mean that he was incapable of taking care of himself. He was still Russian.

He had been top of his class in hand-to-hand combat and self-defence, and if he ever actually applied himself, he could have a man down in less than a minute. He was good; more than that, really. He was not weak, dainty or breakable.

But he was good at protecting those who were.

When he went into what he liked to call the Greenhouse, he thought at first that Sulu might not be there. He couldn’t hear him uttering softly to the plants like he usually would, and he couldn’t see him stood by his desk. Chekov was quite ready to turn around, when he heard a soft, shaky, breath.

"Hikaru?" He asked. His voice was soft, but it echoed around the quiet room.

He heard a sniffle, and then a sob. Chekov’s stomach knotted as he tried to follow the source of the sound.

What he found was Hikaru, tucked away in the corner of the room. Tear tracks stained his cheeks, and he had his arms wrapped around his middle as if he were trying to hold himself together, nearly hyperventilating in his desperation to stop crying. It didn't take long for Pavel to move to his side, sinking down against the wall like Hikaru had. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling the older man against his chest, tucking Hikaru’s head into the crook of his neck.

"It’s all right," Chekov said gently, trying to sooth him “It’s going to be okay, yes?”

 He slipped into Russian a few times as he spoke to him, but he tried very hard to keep his voice tender and comforting.

Eventually, Sulu stopped crying so heavily, his breaths beginning to even out, letting out a few remaining sniffles. He leaned against Pavel, tears drying into the ensign’s gold shirt. Not that Chekov could ever mind; he’d rather have stains on his shirt than Sulu dealing with this clearly emotional onslaught alone.

"My, uh," Sulu began, as if he needed to explain himself to Chekov. Pavel made sure to keep his features soft and undemanding, letting Hikaru know that he didn’t need to say anything if he didn’t want to, but unable to keep the slight tint of curiosity from his gaze.

Sulu sat up, having slumped against Pavel’s shoulder at some point that he couldn’t remember, and wiped the dry tracks that ran along his cheeks to his jaw. He took in a deep, but still slightly shaky breath, and continued, “A friend of my sister’s commed. She’s been hurt pretty bad; she’s in a coma, or something.”

"Oh Hikaru," Chekov murmured, running thin fingers through Sulu’s short brown hair. Always comforting, always protecting.

"They don’t know when she’ll wake up." Sulu added, his voice breaking, cracking with the strain of the day.

"Do not worry," Chekov said pulling Sulu against him again. "It will be okay. I promise."

Sulu accepted that promise as fact, and nuzzled back into Chekov’s side, allowing himself to be comforted.


	4. D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Leonard share a moment.

**Deify**

     _v. worship or regard as a god._

Leonard didn’t believe in God. Maybe as a doctor he should have, but he knew from personal experience that praying for someone to get better wouldn’t do _shit_. Coming from Georgia, even in the 23 rd century, he  _definitely_  should have. But he still couldn’t see anything plausible about a big man in the sky who had made the whole world and all its complexities in 6 days.

So no, he did not believe in God. In  _any_  god.

Except for a certain Vulcan.

Like any god, he was scared of angering him. He had an instinctual fear of getting on his bad side, into his bad books. He was devoted enough to make sure he worshipped every day, using tongue and teeth along pale skin to show Spock just how thankful he was for everything. Everything he had ever done for McCoy or the Crew, or both.

And most importantly? He loved him, and knew that his god loved him too.

"I keep waiting for it, y’know," He said, his head resting on Spock’s abdomen.

"Waiting for what, precisely?" Spock asked quietly, running a hand through the doctor’s hair.

"For you to leave." Leonard murmured. He noticed that the gentle rhythm of Spock’s fingers through his hair stopped for a moment, and then resumed, at the exact same pace as before.

"I will not leave you," Spock said, after a moment’s consideration. "I am unsure of how to prove it to you, but I will not leave you."

"You don’t have to prove it to me." McCoy said quietly. "Say it again and I’ll believe you."

Spock was Leonard’s god- his word was law, it was promise. McCoy would believe anything and everything he told him.

"I will not leave you." Spock repeated.

And with a slight smile and a soft sigh, McCoy leaned up to press a kiss to his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> There'll be a drabble of each pairing eventually, and I'm considering adding some Spirk, Spones, McCarol and other things along the way.
> 
> If you want a specific pairing, just let me know!


End file.
